Officer of Rum
Joined: 06 Aug 2016
re: BoomHilda bar Avalon
by Greyylene on 2021/12/06 10:30 pm
My name is Hilda bar Avalon.
I am not from these lands. as I'm sure you can tell.
Whatever you may have heard,
magic is real,
and the powers that brought me here are Strong.
But that is another story.
Let it be enough to know I have lived a Very long time.
I have witnessed many things,
both great and small.
I have seen the damage hate will create.
I have also seen in hearts of man, the capacity for incredible depth of compassion and grace.
One such instance involved a small goblin Hoard,
I do mean small.
There were four all together,
a rather disorganized lot of runts apparently.
My Charge, at the time, was caught unaware,
and they stumbled into her camp and started devouring her food stash.
The smallest goblin tried to get to the food as well,
but the others shoved her out of the way.
Instead of keeping watch she sat on the ground and cried.
I had been watching from a perch high above the camp.
The sight was almost too ridiculous to be real and it made me laugh out loud.
Almost loosing my balance I lept into their midst.
My size sent the larger ones scrambling away,
They were more than happy to leave the smallest one to fend off whatever the danger on her own.
I watched as they scampered off before turning to the cowering one left behind.
She was shaking like a leaf,
tears streaked her muddy face.
I knelt as low as I could and held out a piece of bread.
Reluctant at first,
she grabbed the offering and ran to find a bush.
It seemed she was well versed in the art of eating in the bushes.
The wee thing was such a pathetic sight,
I left her alone to finish eating.
As she ate I could almost see the food go down her throat, she was so thin.
For a goblin she was far from terrifying.
In fact she was more like a lost puppy than one of the evil beasts that invade the lands.
There had to be more to that story.
It would have to wait for another time.
After ravenously scarfing the food she curled up in an empty dish and fell asleep.
The soft purring snore of a well fed goblin brought a smile to-my face.
When my Charge returned to camp
she found me sitting near the little goblin quietly communing with some rocks.
Confused for a moment,
my Charge just shook her head and chuckled at the sight.
That was the day we adopted the littlest goblin.
The little creature went everywhere with us.
Sometimes she would scamper around our feet,
other times she would curl up and sleep in the horse's pack.
She never did get very big, and the gender was mostly for our convenience.
Eventually we took to calling her Lydia.
When we got to towns and villages Lydia would hide in the pouch I carried.
Most of the time she stayed hidden,
but every once in a while her head would peek out half covered by my cloak.
The first reactions to seeing her went one of two ways,
screams of terror
squeals of delight.
In towns that had not been ravaged by gobblin hoards
the squeals would mostly be from the children.
The fact Lydia was so small
made her the perfect size for being mistaken as a-puppy
or rag doll that moved.
Towns that knew well the damage these creatures could inflict,
there would be cold looks and angry whispers.
We tried to move quickly through those places so as not to upset the locals,
Most of the time the plan was easy.
rest the horses
and move along.
There was one small village
near a glacier lake. where plans went vastly ary.
We tried to move quickly once it became clear Lydia was more scary than cute.
Her nose just would Not behave.
I did not fully appreciate just how sensitive her nose was until that town.
You see, one of the local delicacies was a thing called Iced cream.
the children loved it,
as did most adults.
Semi frozen heavy cream mixed with sweetener
and sometimes fruit
was served in small bowls.
This is great for ones familiar with dishes.
For a gobblin used to eating more like a wild animal,
the concept failed her.
Amongst screams of terror,
the chaos of frightened animals running wild
and carts full of produce being upturned,
Lydia had somehow gotten lost.
When we finally did find her
the path of destruction was complete.
Looking back at the damage in the small creature's wake
none would ever believe it was done by her alone.
It looked more like a tornado
or an actual hoard of goblins had moved: through.
The only thing missing were the fires that were typical of such an event.
Rounding a corner where the mess had clearly come to an end we found her.
She had absconded with a small barrel of the sweet snack.
As the screams at her presence scared animals,
they also startled Lydia.
Her own panic made her leap from cart to stall,
under and over obstacles in her path.
Finally she found a quiet place to hide.
But the damage had been done.
Totally oblivious to the mess,
she sat on the ground and started to scoop hand fulls of ice cream,
jamming it into her mouth as fast as possible.
Watching her devour the cold treat took everyone by surprise,
but none more so than Lydia when the freeze hit her head.
Cringing in pain but unable to stop slurping the sweetness.
Her face scrunched and contorted in expressions of delight and agony.
The more she ate the worse it got.
And with each fist full she wore as much as she ate.
By the time the barrel was empty the gobblin was covered and sticky.
One of the local children had followed the event from the start of town.
The little boy had heard us calling out to "Lydia" so picked up the name.
With his hands on hips he scolded.
"Lydia! Use the Scoop!
Poor li'l goblin, covered in ice cream, looked up at the little boy.
Her ears drooped back against her head.
And in her best Human language possible ...
*Me's iz sowwy*
And that is A tale of the Littlest Goblin!